


would you mind thinking that a little louder?

by originalblue



Series: everyone's a little bit psychic [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:06:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalblue/pseuds/originalblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shouyou starts hearing something out of place in Kageyama's thoughts, and he decides to use all his powers of subtlety to investigate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was _extremely_ rude to read off another person's feelings without their permission. Of course, no one could help the low-level hum of emotional chatter that they gave off or picked up, but deeper stuff was off limits without explicit consent. Everyone knew that.

Shouyou _knew_ how rude it was, but he couldn't help exactly it, now could he? What the hell else was he supposed to do when Kageyama was giving off super confusing signals that spiked when he looked at Shouyou?

Usually, people only gave off vague hints of emotion and thought, a soothing background to their words and actions. If they were relaxed enough, sometimes they opened up more deeply, letting out full thoughts and feelings. And sometimes, if they were feeling something particularly strongly, it bled through everything else.

For some reason, lately Kageyama had been keeping some kind of secret that swirled around him constantly, a whisper that he was doing his damndest to muffle.

It was driving Shouyou _nuts_. He could hear it faintly whenever he was around Kageyama, but Kageyama was just too goddamn good at keeping it under wraps.

Shouyou was a little offended at that. They were sort of best friends, weren't they? At the very least they were partners, and partners were supposed to tell each other when stuff was bothering them. That was why partnerships worked so well. They had the other person there to pick up their slack.

Ever since he'd been a little kid, Shouyou had always associated certain smells and flavors with certain emotions in his head, and for the past week he'd caught flickers of sticky sour candy guilt mixed with that stupid burning asphalt anger. He wished that stupid Kageyama would just spit it out, but he also knew that Bakayama was awful at admitting to other people that something was wrong. He just let it sit inside, festering, until he was almost too stressed to speak at all. Shouyou had gotten good at recognizing the symptoms of a hardcore Kageyama meltdown, and he planned on nipping this one in the bud.

He waited until Saturday to make his move, because they only had morning practice. Ukai had ordered them to relax a little before their next practice game, and Daichi had supplemented the order with a particularly scary warning thought, complete with a detailed mental image of what he'd do to them if he caught them doing anything but resting.

Practice had gone well for the most part, except that Kageyama had been complete shit. He'd spiked the ball into the net more than he'd made it over, and had apologized to Daichi at least a dozen times, hands clenched tightly in the front of his practice shorts. The last time Shouyou had seen him so miserable was when they'd faced the Grand King and lost.

On the walk home, Shouyou laced his fingers behind his head and looked at the taller boy, who still seemed stiff and irritated.

Shouyou studied his face. “You were fucking terrible today at practice,” he said almost casually.

He'd thought that Kageyama had already been as tense as physically possible, but _boy_ had he been wrong. Kageyama's shoulders tightened until Shouyou swore he heard the creak of muscle. Kageyama glared down at him, ears burning. "I don't want to hear that from you, asshole. I'm not the one who hit the net face first."

Kageyama's thoughts were loud just then, more hot asphalt anger and sour candy guilt and something that Shouyou couldn't figure out that was almost... citrus? Shouyou blinked. He couldn't remember ever having that particular flavor directed towards him. Huh. He was sure he'd felt it before, somewhere in the jumble of thoughts that he walked through every day during school, somewhere in groups of giggling girls and awkward boys and even sometimes in the locker room-

Shouyou scowled; he was more confused now than he'd been when the day started. "Okay, that's it. What the fuck is your problem? Did I do something to tick you off?" He knew he was probably broadcasting a bunch of his own anger, but he didn't give a shit. He _wanted_ Bakayama to know how pissed he was.

Kageyama looked away. "No more than usual, dumbass," he said gruffly, not meeting Shouyou's eyes, and _that_ was the final straw. He shouldn't sound so defeated when Shouyou _didn't even know what the fucking problem was._

Shouyou grabbed him by the arm. "Then what?" he asked. "Because I'm tired of this bullshit. Why won't you even fucking look at me?" he snapped, suddenly _so fucking done_ with whatever  _the fuck_ Kageyama was doing. He didn't give a shit anymore. He was sort of Kageyama's best friend slash rival slash whatever the fuck they were, and he had a responsibility to tell this tall jerkwad when he was being an out and out douche. Shouyou yanked on the sleeve of Kageyama's team jacket until the taller boy was forced to face him.

Sometimes Shouyou forgot how big Kageyama was, but he was reminded just then, leaning his head back to stare furiously up into those unreadable dark eyes. "What's your fucking  _problem?_ " he demanded.

There was sour candy and hard citrus and sickly bubblegum frustration pouring off Kageyama in waves, and then there were long, calloused fingers in the front of Shouyou's jacket, and Kageyama was leaning down and pressing his mouth to Shouyou's.

Shouyou froze in shock, the hum of Kageyama's mind so close to his own, and now he could feel that citrus more clearly in Kageyama's thoughts, and he realized it was the feeling of a crush.

Kageyama had a crush on him.

He was so surprised that he opened his mouth to ask Kageyama exactly how long _that_ had been going on, and Kageyama's tongue swiped across his lower lip.

Oh. _Oh_.

He stopped thinking so much.

Kageyama's tongue was in his mouth, and it was wet and warm and weird, and somehow really good. After a second, he tentatively returned the motion with his own tongue, enjoying the noise Kageyama made into his mouth. He hadn't known that Bakayama could sound like that. One of Kageyama's hands pressed against Shouyou's cheek, and it was surprisingly gentle, palm warm against his skin.

Huh. So _this_ was why people liked kissing so much. He liked the way Kageyama's jaw popped as he turned to fit his face more closely to Shouyou's. He liked the way Kageyama's nose scrunched up a little, like he was concentrating, trying not to mess up.

Shouyou had kept his hands at his sides at first, but he was suddenly aware that he should probably do something with them. Kageyama seemed to know what to do instinctively, and Shouyou felt a flicker of irritation that it all seemed to come so easily to him. Kageyama snorted against his mouth, and Shouyou flushed, realizing he'd let the thought slip out. He settled for letting his fingers curl into Kageyama's shirt, and if the way Kageyama reacted was any indication - leaning into the touch, fingers stroking Shouyou's jaw - Shouyou was doing just fine.

He'd never really thought about kissing Kageyama before, but this was a lot better than anything he would have imagined.

Kageyama made a sound in the back of his throat and pulled away, and Shouyou realized that he'd let that last thought slip out kind of loudly.

Also, they'd been standing on an empty sidewalk, sort of making out. In broad daylight.

Shouyou jerked away from Kageyama's hands, startled. He knew his face was beet red, but he was frozen. He couldn't look away from how pale Kageyama had gotten, and how pink and kiss-bruised his mouth was. Shouyou knew he couldn't look much better, and opened his mouth to crack a joke about looking like he'd made out with a strawberry ice cream, but before he could say anything, Kageyama gave a strangled gulp.

"Sorry," he rushed out, "I thought you- I thought you wanted-" he swallowed visibly. "I thought you- you liked-"

 _I thought you liked me too,_ was what Kageyama's mind was shrieking with hot hot wasabi-flavored fear that even Kageyama's iron control couldn't keep inside.

Kageyama took a big step backwards, looking sicker than Shouyou had ever seen him, and Shouyou opened his mouth to respond - seriously, how did you even respond to something like that? - but Kageyama was already darting away down the sidewalk, his mind ringing loudly with that sticky sour guilt and a screaming sharp panic that tasted like Kageyama's favorite milk had spoiled.

Shouyou stared after him, confused and worried and kind of flattered. Kageyama liked him. Kageyama wanted to kiss him. Kageyama thought about kissing him.

Fuck.

Shouyou slapped his palm to his forehead. God, that _idiot_. Kageyama had been so worried about his crush that he'd basically worked himself into a panic attack. And now he thought Shouyou hated him or something, and he was probably going to close himself off and pretend it never happened and yell at everyone around him, because that was how Kageyama Tobio dealt with things that stressed him out.

Kageyama might have been a genius setter, but sometimes he was a real fucking moron.

Shouyou had been hoping that today's conversation would break through Kageyama's funk, but apparently it had just made it ten times worse. Not to mention the fact that fucking _Kageyama Tobio_ had a huge dumb crush on him, and Shouyou couldn't think of a single thing to say that would make this less awkward.

_'Hey dude. Please keep tossing to me. I still want to play volleyball with you. Sorry I don't have a crush on you back.'_

He swallowed hard.

He didn't have a crush on Kageyama, right? That would be weird. They fought too much for that. So what if he thought about Kageyama's abs and hands sometimes when he was jerking off? All guys did that sometimes, right? And who could blame him? He was on a sports team with really ripped guys who got all sweaty and then had to shower it off and stuff, and Shouyou had a somewhat overactive imagination, and it didn't really matter, right?

But that didn't mean he wanted to kiss the dudes on his team. He would _never_ think about any of his sempais like that. They were untouchable coolness, like idols only better – the complete opposite of Kageyama.

Shouyou wasn't blind; Kageyama was hot, really hot. He was ridiculously ripped for someone so lame. And there was no doubt about it, Kageyama was the biggest friggin' loser that Shouyou had ever met. Who else got all worked up about whether or not animals liked him? Who else secretly bowed to the empty gym after cleaning it up, just because he respected the court so much? Who else had spent a whole twenty minutes during lunch one day researching milk brands on his phone because he wanted to make sure the brand he liked was also the most nutritious?

He was a huge loser in Shouyou's book, despite what anyone else said.

But he was also Kageyama, which meant he was a dick approximately ninety-five percent of the time. Every single day it was a new argument, a new glaring match, a new reason to spike harder and faster and more precisely, because if he could beat Kageyama, then he had beaten the best.

Because Kageyama _was_ the best. It didn't matter if they'd lost to those jerks at Aoba Jousai, because Shouyou knew that next time, he and Kageyama were going to fucking _pound them into the ground._ Together.

Shouyou groaned, dropping into a crouch and shoving his hair back from his forehead.

Goddammit. Why did everything with Kageyama have to be so friggin' complicated? 


	2. Chapter 2

After fifteen minutes of agony, during which he called himself seven kinds of idiot and shouted at a tree until he realized how ridiculous he looked, Shouyou pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, until he finally hit Kageyama.

There were two numbers listed under his name.

He'd gotten one from Kageyama himself, the first time they'd arranged to practice outside of school. He'd gotten the second from the contact list Daichi had put together and emailed to the club members. It was really only meant to be for emergencies, but Shouyou had dutifully copied every single number into his phone and labeled them.

Shouyou took a deep breath and nodded to himself. It was okay. He could do this. He dialed the second number and waited. The ringing was oddly loud in the afternoon's quiet.

There was a clicking noise as it picked up, and a woman's voice sounded on the other end. “Hello?”

He blinked. “Um, hello ma'am. Is this Kageyama's mother? My name is Hinata Shouyou.”

The woman sounded surprised. “Hinata-san, is it? Aren't you on the volleyball team with Tobio?”

Shouyou swallowed. “Yes, ma'am. That's me.” He tried to make himself sound less like the hyper-aggressive semi-delinquent he was at heart and more like a proud upstanding member of a sports team. “I have some homework that I need to go over with Kageyama, and I was wondering if I could come over.”

God, he was so glad that people couldn't read thoughts over the phone. He was a bad enough liar as it was.

There was a pause, then Kageyama's mother laughed. “That sounds fine, Hinata-san. You're so polite to call first! To tell you the truth, Tobio seemed stressed when he came home. It'd be good for him to hang out with a friend and relax a little. Do you have a pen? I'll give you the address.”

\-----

Tobio stared blankly at his ceiling, fingers trembling too hard to even practice tossing. There was a knot of twisting anxiety sitting inside his chest that refused to be dispelled, and he needed to focus on just breathing. He was sure that if he let himself think too hard about what had happened his heart would actually tear itself in two. He wondered if he could still play volleyball if his heart forced its way out from between his ribs.

But Hinata had been so soft, so stupidly soft, all bright eyes and a lean jaw and muscle under his jacket. Tobio couldn't stop remembering the way Hinata had responded, opening his mouth, leaning further into the kiss, making quiet sounds that had been like a punch to Tobio's gut.

And then Tobio had felt that bright yellowish-green note of confusion and surprise in Hinata's mind, the thought _I've never thought of kissing Kageyama before_ humming loudly in Tobio's ears. Of course Hinata hadn't thought about it before. Hinata didn't like him. Hinata probably didn't even like guys, period. He'd just been going along with what Tobio had initiated, because he was too startled to do anything else. Like always.

Tobio swallowed. Hinata was probably going to ask Daichi if he could be paired with someone else. Suga would be a good partner. Suga could hold the team together when no one else could.

 _But I don't want him to work with Suga,_ the proud voice in the back of his head reminded him. _He's_ my _partner. We work best together._

Tobio shoved a pillow into his face and let out the muffled yell that he'd been keeping in since the moment he'd gotten home.

A soft knock at his door made him look up. His mom knocked loudly, and his dad never knocked at all, just called out Tobio's name and told him to come talk to him in the living room when he had time. It was probably one of the neighborhood kids here to beg him to teach them how to toss again, and he wondered why his mother hadn't just called him down for that.

“Come in,” he said, hating how his voice cracked a little, and the door opened, and suddenly Tobio was sure he was actually having a heart attack. He shot to his feet, staring.

Hinata stood in the doorway, hands gripping the strap on his bag just a little too hard. His thoughts were orange and yellow, like usual, but for once they were quiet.

Tobio hated that he'd made Hinata go quiet like that.

“Um, can I come in?” Hinata asked eventually, and Tobio nodded curtly, trying to ignore the fact that he was sure he was going to die of a brain aneurysm with the way the blood was roaring in his ears. He knew his mood was dark blue right now, threaded with bright green, but he couldn't seem to find the will to reign it in.

Hinata sat on the edge of Tobio's bed without waiting for him to say anything, and for that Tobio was glad. He stared rigidly at the blank wall in front of him, praying for the ground to swallow him whole.

“It's not going to,” Hinata replied automatically, and Tobio closed his eyes, a cool feeling sinking over him.

He was already fucked. Nothing he did or said could make this any worse. He would just have to wait for Hinata to say what he wanted to say, then once he was gone, Tobio could crawl into bed and stay there. He could drop out of school and quit the team, and he could sit in his room with his volleyballs for the rest of forever and never have to talk to anyone ever again. It didn't matter that everyone hated him because he would never have to see them again. It was all over.

A sharp hand cuffed his head, knocking him sideways. He barely caught himself on the edge of the bed, and looked up into Hinata's irritated eyes.

“What the fuck?” Hinata took off his bag, letting it slide to the floor. “So that's it? You're just gonna give up?” His orange was louder now, spiked with burgundy anger. “You don't get to do that. You don't get to run off and be scared because _you're_ the one who kissed _me,_ and _I_ should be the one who's freaking out.”

Tobio swallowed. “But you're not?”

“No!” Hinata half-shouted, then seemed to realize how loud he was being and lowered his voice. “No. I'm not. But I should be. So you don't get to quit just because you're embarrassed. Don't even think about it.” His knuckles stood out rigidly on his fists. “I still want to play with you, dumbass! Don't you dare think about quitting.”

His mind was loud just then, lots of bright red feelings mixed in with more muted pinks and oranges. There were also jumbles of words and impressions, like _Bakayama_ and _maybe someday he'll learn to chill out a little_ and _we're having curry tonight_ and _his mom seems really nice,_ all mixed together. It was oddly soothing.

Hinata stood up and grabbed his bag, forcing the taller boy to look up at him. “I have to get home for dinner, but I want you to listen to me. I don't hate you. I don't want you to hole up in your room like a hermit. The world's not going to end.” He raked his hair back from his face. “Also I'd appreciate it if you didn't kiss me without asking first. That was kind of rude. I mean, I know I'm kind of rude to you sometimes, but it's a friendly rude. You know, because we're friends.” Hinata's thoughts felt like warm orange-gold and had that heady clear feeling of absolute truth. He cleared his throat. “So just make sure you show up for practice tomorrow, okay? Don't make yourself sick again.”

Speech apparently finished, Hinata turned on his heel and left, shutting the door stiffly behind him. Tobio heard the faint sound of Hinata thanking his mother and promising to come again, and then the front door closed.

Tobio stared at the back of his door and felt something in his chest relaxing.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday practice passed mostly uneventfully. Kageyama was back to being irritable and loud, and his serves and tosses were leagues better than they'd been for days.

“What did you do?” Daichi muttered to Shouyou as the younger boy retrieved a ball. The captain's thoughts were full of soft mochi-flavored curiosity.

Shouyou shrugged. “He was just stressed about something dumb. You know how he is.” He desperately forced himself not to let his own anxiety show in his mind.

Daichi hummed thoughtfully. “He _does_ tend to get caught up in things. And you're sure it's okay now?” He raised an eyebrow and looked down at Shouyou, who swallowed hard. Daichi's stares could be very unnerving.

Shouyou stood as straight as possible, willing his mind to stay calm. “We're working on it, I promise!”

 _Don't think about it,_ he chanted to himself as Daichi nodded, _don't think about the kiss. Think about flowers and stuff, volleyball, Natsu, anything, think about udon and sweet bread and fried squid, but don't think about the kiss-_

Daichi gave him a puzzled look, but didn't say anything as he walked away, and Shouyou heaved a sigh of relief.

_Oh, thank god. Kageyama would have murdered me._

Daichi stumbled mid-step and turned around, a strange look on his face. His eyes flickered from Shouyou's beet-red face to Kageyama, who was practicing serves on the other side of the gym. After another moment of agonizing scrutiny, Daichi shook his head and shrugged, walking over to where Suga sat.

Shouyou slammed his palm into his forehead. He prayed that Daichi hadn't caught all of that. Usually he was better at keeping things quiet, but Daichi's question had surprised him. He really needed to think about other stuff. Like studying for his next chemistry test, or how Tanaka had just asked Shimizu out for the thirteenth time and she'd flatly refused him again, or how they'd made Asahi sit down so they could braid his hair last week. Yeah.

He didn't think about how Kageyama was sweating so hard his shirt was soaked through, or the way that he'd use the hem to wipe his forehead, or the fact that they were gonna have to shower and change after this and Shouyou's locker was next to Kageyama's. Kageyama, who was gonna be all sweaty and hot and kind of naked while they changed. He didn't think about the way that Kageyama had looked during the kiss, face scarlet and eyes closed tight, like he was afraid it would end if he opened them. He didn't think about the way Kageyama's hands had fit against his jaw and his shirt, callused and warm and familiar.

Shouyou ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair, trying to flatten it a little, and breathed in again, a little deeper this time. He very carefully didn't look up at Kageyama.

He needed to think about other things. Yeah.

When practice ended, the first years put away the equipment and cleaned up. He and Kageyama changed without speaking. Shouyou did his very best not to think too loudly about anything in particular, and he felt like he succeeded.

Kageyama's mind was mostly quiet, giving off a resigned muted raspberry pudding that Shouyou had seldom felt from anyone before.

“Hey,” Shouyou said midway through their walk home. “Kageyama.”

Kageyama glanced over at him, his mind spiking with mochi curiosity and mild apprehension that reminded Shouyou of applesauce. “What?” Kageyama asked gruffly, and Shouyou could hear him trying to muffle his thoughts.

Shouyou laced his fingers behind his neck and looked up at the sky. “Why'd you kiss me?”

Kageyama stopped walking, his mind going completely quiet. Shouyou knew what he was doing – it was his super silence trick that he used on the court, to stop the other team from knowing where he was going to toss. Apparently he'd learned it from the Grand King, who was excellent at misdirecting other teams with his thoughts.

The silence was completely unnerving.

Shouyou raised a hand and flicked Kageyama in the ear, hard. The taller boy flinched, scowling. “What the hell?”

“You were doing your thing,” Shouyou replied, crossing his arms. “I hate it when you do that. There's no one around but us.” He nodded towards the empty sidewalk and the sound of cicadas in the trees. He tapped an idle foot. “So are you gonna answer, or what?”

With a sigh, Kageyama started walking again. “Because,” he grumbled. “I wanted to.”

Shouyou rolled his eyes. “That's it? Seriously, come on. There's _no one_ _else here._ ” He reached up and tugged on Kageyama's sleeve. “You like me, don't you?”

Kageyama stopped again, staring down at him. Shouyou could feel a faint echo of _What are you, nuts?_ coming from Kageyama's mind, but Shouyou refused to back down.

“You get all citrus-y whenever you look at me,” he said stubbornly, meeting Kageyama's eyes. “So why didn't you say anything?”

Kageyama gave him a weird look. “Citrus?”

“Yeah!” Shouyou tried to find the words. “Like, you know, gwahh! When you look at me, your thoughts go all fizzly and citrus-y stuff. Like bright and happy but also kinda irritated? That's a crush, right?”

“So you think of thoughts as food, huh?” Kageyama said, deadpan. “Why does that not surprise me?”

Shouyou realized he was still holding onto Kageyama's sleeve and let go, suddenly aware that he'd been in basically the same position yesterday, when Kageyama had leaned down and pulled him close and kissed him. He felt his face heating up and prayed he wasn't too red.

He heard a sigh and looked up. Kageyama was looking away, face angled towards the street. “Listen, you don't need to worry or anything. I won't do it again.” His mind was a low buzz of spaghetti sauce tiredness – the good kind of tiredness, after a long day playing volleyball – with some undercurrents of blueberry tart-flavored disappointment and acceptance.

Shouyou's mouth was suddenly dry. “What? Why not?” Did he not like Shouyou anymore? Had Shouyou been such a terrible kisser that Kageyama didn't even want to think about doing it again? Was that possible?

“Dumbass!” Kageyama glanced at him and then away, shoving his hands into his pockets. His ears were bright red against his dark hair. “It's not like that. I won't do it again because you don't want me to.”

 _I wouldn't do that to you,_ his mind echoed. _Not ever._

Shouyou blinked up at him. “But you didn't even ask me.”

Spots of color burned in Kageyama's cheeks as he scowled. “I'm sorry, okay? I should have asked first.” He stomped away, gripping his bag's shoulder strap like a lifeline.

Cursing under his breath, Shouyou reached out and grabbed his arm and held on. “Hey, stop it! I meant you didn't even ask me out or anything. You didn't even really confess.”

Kageyama looked at him woodenly. “What would be the point?” His thoughts reeked of raw steak fear, but it was different from the way he'd been afraid yesterday, different from the searing wasabi-flavored terror. This was his deep fear of rejection rearing its ugly head. This was an emotion that Shouyou had long since come to associate with Kageyama, and right now it was ringing with undertones of _You don't even like me, so what's the point?_

Shouyou took a deep breath and put one hand on Kageyama's shoulder. It irked him that he had to reach up a little to do it, but he didn't let that stop him. “First of all, I like getting confessed to,” he said, completely serious. “It's a good feeling.”

Kageyama snorted and swatted his hand away, turning to leave.

“And second,” Shouyou continued, raising his voice as Kageyama walked away. “You didn't give me a chance to respond.”

The taller boy finally stopped. “What?” he snapped, voice cracking a little. His eyes were wider than Shouyou had ever seen, white showing all the way around the dark blue of his irises. He seemed younger for a moment, less sure of himself. Shouyou suddenly remembered that Kageyama's birthday wasn't until December.

He looked up at Kageyama, brows raised. “I said, you didn't even give me a chance to respond. You just kissed me and then ran away.”

“But you- you don't like me.” His face was the picture of misery, and Shouyou could feel that the one thing Kageyama hated more than having feelings was being forced to talk about them.

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth thoughtfully, Shouyou adjusted his bag. “Just because I hadn't thought about kissing you before didn't mean it was bad or anything.” He shrugged. “I wouldn't mind kissing you again.”

Kageyama was quiet for a long minute. “That's not- That's not what I-” he swallowed, looking down. _I don't want to just kiss you,_ his thoughts muttered. _I don't want it to be like that. I wanted more._

Shouyou felt warm inside, a mix of red bean paste fondness. “Then you should probably hurry up and ask me out, if that's what you wanted.” He nudged Kageyama gently with one elbow. “Otherwise I'm pretty sure we're just gonna stand here arguing all night.” He gestured towards the sun, which had already begun to set.

Kageyama's shoulders stiffened, and he took a deep breath. Shouyou knew the look on his face; it was the look of Kageyama steeling himself to go up against Aoba Jousai. Shouyou was kind of flattered that he was so nervous.

To his surprise, Kageyama put down his bag and squared his shoulders. Then he bowed deeply, head down, arms at his sides. “I like you,” he said loudly, to the point where Shouyou winced a little. “Please go out with me.”

“Oi, this isn't a test or something,” Shouyou said, patting his shoulder. “You don't need to bow. It's kind of weird.” He tried not grin, but knew that he was doing a terrible job of stifling the laughter in his thoughts. Kageyama looked like he was going into battle.

Kageyama straightened up and picked up his bag. “So is that your answer?” His voice was cold and his face was impassive. His iron walls were up in his mind again. “You're teasing me?”

“What?” Shouyou asked, frowning. “No, no. It's not like that.” He took a deep breath and looked at his shoes. “Please give me a few days to think about it. I'll give you my answer soon, I promise.” He peeked up at Kageyama and saw the startled expression on his face. “What?” Shouyou asked, suddenly embarrassed. “You kissed me out of the blue! I need some time to think.”

Thankfully, Kageyama was just as red as he was. “No, that's not-” he cleared his throat. “I thought you- do you even like guys?”

Shouyou shrugged. “It's not a big deal to me. I mean,” he added hurriedly, seeing the look on Kageyama's face, “I've never really thought about it either way. I've had crushes on guys and girls before.” He shrugged again, unsure of what else to say.

There was a moment of tense silence and then Kageyama nodded.

Shouyou breathed out. “So we're good? You're not gonna have a heart attack or something because you think I hate you?”

Kageyama shot him a withering glare, but he was giving off waves of chocolate milk relief.

Shouyou grinned. “See ya tomorrow, then.” He waved as he took the path to his house, glancing back to see that Kageyama wasn't smiling, but he wasn't exactly frowning either. Shouyou took that as a victory.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Monday and Tuesday went by in a blur; apparently Saturday's blessed half-day of rest had come at a terrible price, and that price was a brand new, even-worse-than-before training regimen from Ukai. They'd all groaned when he announced the increased conditioning, but none of them dared argue when Daichi turned a stoney face in their direction.

Shouyou felt like he'd hardly seen Kageyama since the confession. Sure, he'd seen him during practice, and glimpsed him in the halls a few times, and they still raced to the gym every morning, but it was weird. He was pretty sure Kageyama wasn't avoiding him because he was freaked out – after all, he'd been pretty normal at practice. So what was his deal?

And Shouyou would have just asked him after school, except that the _minute_ practice was over, Kageyama was gone, not even bothering to change out of his gross practice clothes. Shouyou had been tempted to run after him, but Mondays and Tuesdays were the days that Nishinoya-senpai and Asahi-senpai had graciously assented to use for Shouyou's extra receive training, and Shouyou would never _, ever_ take that for granted.

He trudged home Tuesday afternoon feeling lost. Where the hell was Kageyama? What was that asshole's problem? Who kissed someone and confessed to them and then completely avoided them?

Shouyou needed time to figure things out, but how was he supposed to know if he liked Kageyama if Kageyama wasn't even around?

Shouyou swallowed. Was Kageyama regretting it? Was that why he was avoiding him? Had Shouyou been too pushy? Did Kageyama want to take back the confession?

Thinking about the confession inevitably led to Shouyou thinking about what it would be like to date Kageyama. It was kind of nice, in its own way; like a daydream. Except that he could make it a reality, if he wanted. He and Kageyama would do everything they did now, but they could also kiss sometimes, or buy each other meat buns on the way home. That thought tasted like orange cream soda, all sweet and sticky and laced with summertime.

Kissing Kageyama had been really _right_. He didn't know how else to explain it. It was like they were doing one of their quicks, but at the end of the quick, they got to shove their mouths together. Okay, the whole thing had been a little gross at first – it was still a little gross, when he thought about it objectively – but he wanted to do it more. It felt good. And it didn't matter if they didn't get along perfectly, because they always worked things out in the end.

But first he was going to have to track down Kageyama and let him know that _yes_ he kinda wanted to date him, but only if Kageyama could pull his head out of his own ass for five minutes and do the bare minimum in communication. They were teammates, right? You talked to your teammates. And you sure as hell didn't avoid them for days and glare at them when their backs were turned (to be fair, he knew it was just the way Kageyama looked normally, but it was still a little scary). He kept turning around during practice to find Kageyama radiating waves of irritation, his eyes firmly fixed anywhere except Shouyou, even though Shouyou _swore_ he could feel Kageyama looking at him.

The worst part of it all was that Kageyama had kept his walls up both days, mind silent, thoughts muted. He knew that Shouyou didn't like it, but he still kept quiet. Shouyou wondered if he was doing it because he was embarrassed or because he was scared that Shouyou would publicly reject him.

Which was kind of ridiculous, because Shouyou was physically incapable of doing something that mean, but Shouyou knew that some people's brains just worked that way, telling them all their deepest fears all the time.

If he was gonna date Kageyama, he wanted it to be like real dating, where you were nice to each other and listened to the other person. He wanted to go on dates and sit down and talk about stuff and hold hands. He wanted to be able to say 'this is my boyfriend' and show Kageyama off to other people.

He felt warm all over at the thought of calling Kageyama his boyfriend in public. He wondered briefly if Kageyama would even _want_ him to be saying stuff like that in public, but then he thought back to that confession, so loud and serious, and he knew that he was worrying about nothing. Kageyama liked him. Kageyama had confessed to him. Kageyama was the most annoying person in the world when it came to interpersonal relationships, but how was that different from anything else with him?

At least now Shouyou had a plan.

Step one: corner Kageyama.

Step two: yell at Kageyama for being a dumb loser who made other people worry about him.

Step three: find out where the hell Kageyama kept going after school, because it sure as hell wasn't home, not in his gross volleyball clothes.

He was a little nervous about the fourth step – by the time he reached it, he was pretty sure Kageyama wouldn't even _want_ to date him anymore – but it just made sense.

Practice dating!

He thought it was kind of genius, personally. He'd had gotten the idea from all the extra training assigned by Ukai; what did you do when you wanted to prepare for a scary game? Practice! Scrimmages! Conditioning!

And maybe, just maybe, if Shouyou could tell himself that it was a practice date and not a real one, it would be the tiniest bit less nerve-wracking.

\-----

Wednesday morning, Shouyou woke up sweating, legs twisted in his sheets. He tried to sit up and froze.

There was a rush of blank horror, and then a wave of guilt, and finally, he was quiet, unwilling to even acknowledge the _travesty_ that had occurred.

He stared up at the blank ceiling for a full five minutes, only moving when his mom called him down to breakfast. He combed his unruly hair and brushed his teeth mechanically, pulling on his sweater and jacket with practiced ease. Then he wheeled out his bike, barely remembering to give Natsu a goodbye hug so that she wouldn't cry all day.

It was chilly outside, but he didn't really feel it.

He was definitely feeling some loud black licorice nervousness as he approached the corner where he usually met Kageyama on the way to school. He waved halfheartedly to the lady who ran the little cake shop across the street, glad she was too far away to hear his thoughts.

As much as he wished he could deny it, the fact remained that Shouyou had definitely had a dream about it – _the_ kiss – only, in his dream it didn't stop with kissing. And it had only ended when Shouyou had startled awake at his alarm clock with an uncomfortable hardness between his legs and a sudden, deep, cherry cake embarrassment.

He really needed to not think about that too loudly during practice. Seriously. He needed to take a few deep breaths and let it sink into the rest of his thoughts so deeply that no one would ever hear it. As frazzled as he was now, he knew it would only get a hundred times worse if Tanaka or Nishinoya found out. He loved his senpais, but they could be merciless when it came to teasing their cute underclassmen, and he was positive that they'd _never_ let him live down something like this.

And god forbid _Kageyama_ hear about it.

Something in Shouyou's head clicked, and he remembered all the thinking he'd done yesterday on his ride home from school.

Right. The plan. He could do this.

Checking his watch, he realized he was a few minutes early. He leaned his bike against a road barrier and settled back, breathing into his hands to warm them.

It was okay. He could do this. He had zero reason to be worried.

It took another five minutes for him to hear the telltale jingle of someone else's black licorice and sour candy mixed with too-sweet watermelon dread, but it was unmistakably Kageyama. Shouyou jumped to his feet, stretching and forcing himself to calm down. He didn't need to worry, and he wished his pulse would remember that. If he was too worked up, it would just scare Kageyama off.

“Oi,” he called, waving. “What took you so long?”

He could see the sour expression on Kageyama's face from thirty meters away, and felt a sudden rush of affection. There was only one person who lived every waking moment with his face in some varying degree of pissed off, and that was Kageyama Tobio.

Shouyou pulled his bike forward, putting the kickstand up and meeting Kageyama in the empty intersection. Kageyama's mind was normal, a low hum of rice and milk that sounded like _practice_ and _don't want to be late again_ and _gotta study tonight_.

“So,” Shouyou said, listening to the spinning click of his bike's wheels. “Where'd you go yesterday?”

Kageyama jerked as if he'd been stung, and in the loud mess of thoughts that followed, all that Shouyou could pick out was _Aoba Jousai_ and _Iwaizumi-senpai._

Shouyou raised his eyebrows. “You went to go see that spiky-haired guy? What for?” He leaned in close, suddenly excited. “Did you pick a fight with the Grand King?”

Kageyama's hand clamped down on his head, almost painfully tight. “No! It wasn't like that. I went to go see Iwaizumi-senpai because I wanted to talk to him about something. It wasn't about volleyball.” He finally released his grip, and Shouyou raked a hand through his hair to ruffled it back into shape.

“So, what, you disappeared for two days for that? To go see your teammate?” That was kind of weird. Kageyama going to visit an old teammate – and from the team that had despised him, according to volleyball gossip – was odd enough. But going _twice?_

Kageyama huffed and adjusted the strap on his bag. “I didn't disappear. I had something to do, I did it, it's over with.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. But what about me?”

Kageyama threw him a look. “What _about_ you?”

“Shouldn't I be jealous, or something?” Shouyou shot him a look. “You went to go see another guy behind my back.”

Kageyama's face went nearly purple. “It wasn't-” he let out a strangled noise. There was definitely some bubblegum frustration in his thoughts, mixed in with everything else. “It wasn't like that. And you wouldn't be jealous unless we were dating. Which we're not.”

“Not yet,” Shouyou corrected, and Kageyama stared at him. “What?” he continued, meeting Kageyama's gaze squarely. “You thought I was gonna say no?”

Kageyama's mouth opened and closed twice before he found his voice. “So you want to go out with me?” Shouyou could tell it was a struggle for him to keep his voice even and his thoughts calm.

Shouyou caught his eye. “I think we should do a practice date or two first,” he said, completely serious. “Just to make sure we get it right. Do you mind if we do that?” He knew there was some loud cold cereal uncertainty in his thoughts, but it was too late to muffle it.

Thankfully, Kageyama seemed more capable of speech than he'd been earlier. “Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I mean, yes. We should do that. We work better together when we've practiced.”

Shouyou grinned at him. “That's what I thought.”

 


End file.
